Laughing with Angelus
by Zazzie the Oddball
Summary: Some nights, when Angel is all alone, Angelus comes out to talk. And as much as it frightens him, sometimes Angel likes to talk to Angelus. Set Post S4.


Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not in anyway own or have any rights connected with Buffy The Vampire Slayer or Angel. Please do not sue.  
  
Laughing With Angelus  
  
Sometimes Angel liked to talk to Angelus.  
  
Now, this didn't happen very often. And never during the day. But sometimes when Angel was all alone and he didn't feel like contemplating his future, he would let Angelus come to the surface, as close as he dared, and together they would think about the past.  
  
Angelus didn't like it. Being at the beck and call of the souled wonder brought out all the bitterness in him. But when all was said and done, Angelus always took whatever he could get. He took it and made it painful.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It had been a week since he had let Connor go. A week since he gave away his son. A week. Seven days. One hundred and sixty eight hours. Ten thousand and eighty.three, no four minutes. But it wasn't like he was counting.  
  
He was still in his office. No, not his office, Angelus corrected, Wolfman & Harts office. The enemy's office. The ones you sold your soul to. Not literally, of course, Angelus added sullenly. Angel ignores this. It was worth it, no matter what anyone said. Connor was his son. He would do anything for him.  
  
Angelus hadn't wanted to let go of Connor. It sometimes baffles Angel the way Angelus works. Two hundred years together and they still could not understand each other. Sometimes, infrequently, of course, they would try and figure out why they just couldn't seem to figure out each other. Angel thinks it is because they are too opposite. Angelus thinks they are too the same. And finally they agree on something. They are both right.  
  
But tonight wasn't about Angel or Angelus, not about any of the creatures that had sprung from Liam's grave. Tonight was about Connor, and why Angelus wants him nearby or dead. But then again, Angelus wants everything dead. Or suffering. Or both, Angel thinks, almost being able to hear the insane vampiress' laugh, the laugh she only made for Spike and Miss Edith, if she had been a very good girl.  
  
Angelus wants to keep Connor around, but not because of any sentimental attachment, a fact he makes perfectly clear every second of everyday, ever since Wesley had pulled them out of the ocean, starved and crazed. No childe should ever betray his father. Or sire, which is what Angelus always means to say, but never actually does. Angel enjoys pointing out that he had forced Darla to do that very thing, had done it himself over a blonde cheerleader. That Spike had betrayed Drusilla and Darla had treated Dru like dirt, the second time around. Angel loves reminding Angelus that it was his family, his children, his blood, which caused all that treachery. And Angelus shrugs and answers, but I never bothered loving them. And they both know that's a lie, as sure as they know they cannot walk in the sun. But Angel thinks there's some truth in that. The sire may love, but if the childe never knows, if they have no hint or sign, eventually the leader, the mentor, the father, the sire . if the childe never knows then disloyalty is inevitable. The sire will fall.  
  
Connor should have been forced to stay, Angelus always argues. Forced to stay and pay back in sweat, in tears and in blood all that he has tried to take away from us. And part of Angel agrees, and he hopes it makes him more human than a champion, this desire for revenge and not more monster than man. Angelus tells him they are all one in the same. And something in Angel knows he is right.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It is getting late Angel and Angelus both know. Which is why Angelus is still being contrary, still provoking Angel. Which is why Angel is not ignoring him like he should. Because they both know they will soon need to sleep. And they both don't want the game to end.  
  
Angel knows he should disregard Angelus, knows it as certainly as he knows it was his soul, and only his soul, that stopped him from taking Wesley apart piece by piece by piece the night he stole Connor. You never take that which belongs to a Master Vampire. Darla had smirked to that to William once, as they walked out Angelus' den with William lying on the floor, backside ripped to shreds for daring to take one of Angelus' cigars. You never take that which belongs to a Master Vampire. And Angel and Angelus both remember Drusilla's murmurs as they left the room. You must never do that again, my Prince, because my Daddy likes to make your body scream. And Angel's body still screams to pull out each nail, each finger, each tooth, to pull out everything and anything attached to Wesley's body for daring to take that which belongs to a Master Vampire. But he doesn't. And he hopes that is enough to make him different from Angelus. But they both know it's not.  
  
So Angel rises to each of Angelus' jibes, each attack because he doesn't want to stop, because he needs to fight with him to convince himself he is strong. But Angelus always let's Angel have the last word, a fact Angel cannot help but be aware of, because if Angelus wins than there is no guarantee that Angel would even dare wake him up again.  
  
So when Angelus tells Angel that Connor doesn't deserve such a perfect life Angel tells him, of course he does, he is our son, even though they both know it is now dawn and they should be going to sleep. And Angelus replies that there is no possible way that Connor would be smart enough to be in the top ten percentile, he is the son of a drunkard and a whore. Angel chokes on his retort, because before his eyes flashes an image of his whore, the last time he saw her, drenched, hair clumped, pregnant, and more beautiful than he has ever seen her. Whispering to him to "tell him he was the best thing we ever did together," all traces of her trademark simper gone, and yet the childlike tone enchanting him.  
  
Angel knows Angelus feels something, remembering his sire at her last, final moments, but before he can figure it out, or even point it out he feels Angelus laugh.  
  
"The best thing we ever did was create the father of a world enslaving Goddess."  
  
Darla's loving words in retrospect remind Angel of his true sire, the one who helped Angelus murder entire villages and laughed about it afterwards. And Angel can't help but laugh with him.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It is almost noon and yet they are still at it. They are continuing to argue about everything they have done in their long lifetime. They had stopped laughing a while ago, after Lorne had knocked upon the door and yelled, "Hey Angelcakes! The maniacal laughter if creeping the rest of us out. If you don't mind knocking it off.thanks." So they both had quieted down, not wanting anyone one to discover Angelus' presence.  
  
"I thought it was a sad kind of laugh."  
  
Angel didn't know who said this, only that whoever did was right. That was as close to crying as Angelus has come to, and as close as Angel will ever admit to.  
  
They go to the window now, debating whether or not to draw aside the curtain. Angel doesn't think they deserve to. Angelus doesn't like the sun. It allowed people to see him before he was ready to make his entrance. It forced him inside each day. It burned at his flesh. But Angel doesn't think he deserves it, so Angelus is all for opening the curtains and basking in the warmth of the sunlight.  
  
They stand; hand on the drape, arguing over whether to sweep it aside. Finally Angel allows Angelus to talk him into it. He was always the more persuasive one. However, Angel takes some small delight in knowing that Angelus will hate the sunlight as much as he will enjoy it.  
  
As they pull aside the curtain they see a school bus pulling up and a petite blonde girl emerge from the front. She appears almost lost and Angelus chuckles at her apparent astonishment at the sight of the professional looking building. She glances up to study the name above the door and they finally see her face. Out comes her name, said with such a mixture of soulful love and demonic hate that it startles it sends shivers down the spine of its speaker.  
  
"Buffy."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Angel forces Angelus away and goes down to the lobby to meet her. She is no more than two feet inside the door when he approaches her. They smile and she thanks him for looking after her second line and he congratulates her on saving the world again. And they smile. And Angel tries hard to contain the gagging noises Angelus is making.  
  
Angel leads her back to his office and she tells him about all the Slayers Willow has made. And they bask in the warm sun and in each other before Angelus forces out his question.  
  
"Why do you look so sad?"  
  
It is said almost happily, but its recipient does not appear to notice. She blinks a couple times and Angel finally notices what Angelus had seen first. She was trying too hard not to cry.  
  
"Angel," she says softly, before her voice cracks and she can speak no more. And as Angel puts his arms around her and draws her to him, comforting her as she had once comforted him, Angelus thinks furiously, trying to think what could possibly make this Slayer cry. What was so terrible that it had reduced this woman that he hated, and yet was forced to admire, to blubbering, the way she was in his arms at that moment? Nothing had seemed to faze her before. Not like this. Nothing had ever brought her to hysterics, because that was the only way her crying could now be described. She had faced the Master calmly, himself almost as. Even Spike could barely  
  
"What happened to Spike?"  
  
He asks it as a question but even as he does he knows the answer won't be worth telling. Spike is gone and that is all matters. And Angel cries because he damned William through Drusilla and Angelus lets him because he made William into Spike and together they brought all of Europe onto bloody knees.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Buffy left, back to the school bus of Slayers, heading towards Cleveland, an hour ago, and he has still not left the spot where she told him. Told him the last sane member of his family was gone. Told him that it was him and Dru and no one else because he had started a 'Let's-Save-Our-Eternal- Souls-And-Be-Unselfish-For-Once-In-Our-Immortal-Lives' club.  
  
He has stayed in that spot because there is no one around to make him move. Angelus should be there, is always there, but isn't because he can't shake himself out of his own stupor. Spike is gone. Spike is gone. Spike is gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.  
  
If Angel would stop feeling so guilty for a second he would wonder why Angelus cares. He would wonder why it doesn't seem to matter that Spike died to destroy and army of demons, intent of annihilate all life on the planet, and was happy to do it, even though it goes against everything that Angelus stands for. Wonder why even though he stopped crying after Buffy left, the tears keep on falling. But Angel doesn't. And Angelus is glad.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
They are laying in bed now, trying to remember, trying to forget, trying to make the pain stop in anyway that they no how. They don't know why it matters so much; Darla caused more guilt, inspired more loyalty, then Spike ever did. Yet they never felt so much pain.  
  
Because Angelus had been grieving for Darla since Angel killed her the first time. Angel had been to absorbed in Buffy's love to notice, but Angelus had mourned for her in his way. And when she left the second time Angel was too busy worrying about Connor to bother remembering about Angleus's sire, his companion, his world. And Angelus had been grieving since Angel killed her, grieving so long that it had become part of him, like living without an arm. Which is why he wanted that Slayer dead, because of what she made Angel do. Because you Never Raise A Hand To Your Sire.  
  
Spike had disobeyed that rule. Over the same Barbie the Angel had. But Angelus didn't care, probably because Spike always had disobeyed the rules, ever since Drusilla had brought him to Angelus and William had demanded to know why he and Darla were dressed like such poncy buggers. And even as Angelus had broken his nose, even as Darla cut open every vein in his body, they both had felt the same thing. This boy would be a pain, he would be trouble, he might even get them killed, but by Gods, he was going to be fun.  
  
Angel remembers that too. He remembers the blood and the screams and he remembers the night William became Spike, the dark night where even Drusilla wouldn't have been able to make him stop, not if she had been sane enough to notice, not if she had been human enough to care. But Angel chooses not to dwell on those memories. Instead, much to Angelus's disgust, he thinks about the other times. William and him discussing books, making battle plans, demolishing anything and anyone who tried to take what was theirs. Because You never take that which belongs to a Master Vampire. He remembers Spike and Darla arguing constantly, her to proper and him to wild for each other's taste. But Angel knows that when Angelus left it took the Master to force them apart. Mostly, however, Angel remembers Drusilla and her Prince, dancing around the room; to music only they could hear. And he convinces his soul that someone like that deserves to be mourned. So they do.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It is almost midnight. There is no clock around, but they never really had a need for one. Midnight is their hour, the hour of death. Angelus wants to go outside, to feel the cool night air against his cold dead flesh. Angel knows he shouldn't let him; it is too dangerous, they haven't fed since before Buffy came. Before they can stop themselves, their lips have parted and a loud laugh echoes around the room. Inside his head Angel can hear Angelus, thinking about the blonde bombshell, and her offer last time of warm chewie cookies. And Angelus is wondering if they would have been blood flavored.  
  
And they laugh and laugh and laugh. Eventually Angel finds himself outside, breathing in the cool air, that he doesn't need to breathe, but that he needs inside his lungs all the same. He knows they should go inside because he knows that if a not-so-innocent walks by and asks him what's the matter he won't be able to resist letting her take him away. Angelus is too close to the surface, but right now Angel can't make himself care.  
  
But then he feels himself move. He doesn't know where Angelus is taking him, but he knows it won't be good. Yet Angelus is whispering, trust me, trust me. And for the second time that night Angel laughs out loud.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
They have been traveling for quite some time now, but as no one has ended up dead so far, Angel has not forced himself to take control. There is something out there that Angelus knows that Angel doesn't, and he wants to find out what it is. Something must be driving Angelus to wherever it is that they are going to, but Angel knows that he won't be allowed to find out a moment before Angelus wants him to. And tonight it doesn't matter.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
He knows now what it is that drives Angelus on. He knew the second they entered the park. And he was surprised because even though Angelus can still sense the blood better the he can, there is no way that Angelus would have been able to know she was here from the hotel. Angelus knows what he is thinking, but only answers she called. And then they are both silent because they have just turned a corner and have spotted her sitting on a park bench, face hidden from the moonlight by the shade of the tree beside her.  
  
"Drusilla."  
  
She looks up at them when they call, but neither are deceived into thinking she just realized they were there. Angelus spent too much time watching her, too much time driving her slowly insane to know she would have seen them there hours, days, maybe even months before they actually arrived. She rises from the bench and walks slowly to where they are standing, arms outreached. "Come," she beckons and they allow her to lead them back to the park bench, letting the trees hide them from the bright moonlight.  
  
"The stars are crying tonight, my Angel," and the way she says it tells them they are both welcome. "They say my Prince has fled." Even though she stills thinks in riddles Angel can discern an unfamiliar look upon her face. Always quicker on the uptake Angelus knows what it is, yet is still shocked into silence for a moment. It is understanding.  
  
She turns to her towards them now and they see the tears. The faint glow of the moon is all they need to know that each tear is falling down a well- worn path. "Why did he have to leave me alone?" she asks, and neither can decide if she is talking to them or the moon. "I let him go to be saved, Daddy, have I been a bad girl?" She looks at them worried she has done wrong and fearful of the punishment that should follow. Angel longs to tell her she did nothing wrong, that she has always been a good girl, that it was him that was being naughty the entire time. But Drusilla is the only one who can tell them apart, so Angel says nothing, but waits for Angelus to speak.  
  
"I guess the stars wanted Darla to have company." Angel smiles as he hears himself say the words. Dru is looking at him puzzled, unable to comprehend what could possible make Angelus say that it is acceptable that his sire and her childe have turned towards the light. Then her expression changes from one of bewilderment to one of amusement. "The stars whisper everything to me Angel-Beast, everything." And Angelus smirks, because only Drusilla has ever really been able to understand every single twisted corner of the maze that is his mind, if only because he had once forced her down every passage.  
  
"One by one they are leaving me, Miss Edith." Angel leans around, trying to see her favourite doll, amazed that she hasn't lost her yet, without Spike around to remind her that she loves Miss Edith. He can't believe that of all the precious gifts Spike gave her, Miss Edith is the only one she still carries with her. Angelus is too busy worrying about what she has said to laugh with Angel. "Shh." she whispers, putting a gloved hand over his mouth, "you're disturbing the night. We don't want her to be angry at us." Angel looks bashful, but he is distracted almost immediately by Angelus.  
  
She's right you know. Darla is saved, Spike is now saved, you're going to work hard to make sure we're saved, but what about Dru? Angel's eyes widen in horror. It's almost funny, if you think about it, Angelus prods on. Darla was a whore, I was a drunkard and William was looking for a way to escape this world. We were all damned before we were turned, except for a happy little girl with a strange gift, who was one of the only people I'd ever met who was guaranteed to go to Paradise. And now we're all saved, except for her. We can all be saved, except for her. I damned her in more ways than one. She is no longer able to have linear thought, she is no longer able to make the decision to be good. I made sure of it long ago.  
  
Angel's eyes fill with tears as he remembers the lengths Angelus went to, just to create the damned creature in front of him. And as the tears fall, Angelus starts to laugh at the irony of it all. Quite a sight they are creating but neither one cares. They sound hysterical, laughing out of control and blubbering like a child. And this time Drusilla doesn't shush them.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
They sit quietly now, the hysterics having died down a short while ago. They sit with an arm around Drusilla, holding her as she continues to cry her silent tears and murmur her crazed thoughts. They too are lost in crazed thoughts, but misery, and insanity, loves company, Angelus rationalizes ruefully. Angel ignores him, finally, but they both know it is a little too late for that tonight.  
  
"You must go now, my Angel, if you want to be home before sunrise." She is speaking clearly, for the first time since Spike abandoned her. Before that, Spike had sometimes be able to sooth her down, into such a tranquil bliss, that she was able to speak coherently, if only for a moment. Angelus doesn't think Spike ever realized he was the only one who could calm Drusilla down. Spike was always obvious to the fact Drusilla loved him just as much as he loved her. And with a sudden burst of clarity Angel understands why Drusilla let Angelus ignore and torture Spike the whole time he was paralyzed, and why she never told Angelus that Spike was better, even though she would have seen, must have seen, did see that he was well again. And it is Angelus who laughs this time because it always takes Angel so long to comprehend.well.everything.  
  
It amuses him immensely that Angel could possibly believe Drusilla would not have known that every look of admiration she sent in Angelus' direction was driving Spike closer and closer to the Slayer, to redemption. What he tries to ignore are all the questions Angel is asking him, wondering why he let her save William. Angelus doesn't respond, doesn't give the slightest hint, but they both know that Angelus loved both of them and if Drusilla had wanted to keep the sun out all the time he would have let her.  
  
Angelus laughs even harder now, because he is remembering Angel telling Darla he didn't love her. And this time Angel joins in because the thought of Angelus never loving Darla is just so ludicrous that they have to laugh. Drusilla giggles with them through her tears because she knows everything, and finds everything hilarious.  
  
And after the laughter dies down Drusilla smiles at them and says, "She knew, you know. Knew it was the Soul answering that time." Suddenly, Angel feels a weight lift off his chest and he feels Angelus go silent. But even in the silence Angel can feel his gratefulness to the vampiress beside him.  
  
It puzzles Angel that Angelus is grateful. Everything about his vampire counter-part confuses him, because Angel can't grasp the concept that Angelus clings to, to justify the saving of Darla, Spike and himself. It is the fact that it isn't himself, Spike and Darla that are being saved. It is Angel, William and the whore Darla used to be. They are the ones that have been damned and they are the ones he is allowing to be saved. Darla, Spike and Angelus, are demons and like Spike once said demons never change. Sometimes the being inside the body they are possessing comes out and takes control. When Spike couldn't kill like a demon, William took charge and like the fool he was he feel head over heels for the first beautiful woman he came across. Connor's soul allowed the whore to come back and save him. Darla couldn't care about the thing inside of her because she already had enough children to care about. The ones she hadn't gotten the way she had gotten Connor. No, she had them through the blood, which, in a way, made them closer to her than giving birth ever can. So what if they were her childe's childe, and the childe of her childe's childe. She loved them in the way of mothers, beyond reason, beyond all possible doubt. The parasite growing inside the whore's body didn't mean a thing to Darla, so the whore came back and saved the boy. And Angelus allowed them to be saved because he loved Spike and Darla and because he knows he can't beat Angel and the Soul. Angelus has always been selfish, and if he goes to heaven, then he is going to make sure that all of his family is coming with him.  
  
Angel doesn't know all this because Angelus won't allow anyone to know that he can care about anything but himself. But Drusilla sees, and it causes an ache quite foreign to Angelus inside, when he recalls that she won't be with her family later on. Angel has been annoyed by the silence from Angelus but when he feels Angelus' pain he pushes aside his curiosity and simply ignores his other half because he knows Angelus and right now Angelus needs to be alone.  
  
"You need to go now."  
  
It is said with such insistence that it sparks an intelligent thought into Angel's head. She wants them to leave her alone to watch the sunrise. William is saved and she knows she is damned so she believes there is nothing here for her. And she is right.  
  
"No." Angel is surprised at the pain he hears in Angelus voice, but he supposes that even Angelus is scared of being alone. She turns to them with a small smile on her face. It is time. She doesn't even have to say it, because they all know it is true. There is nothing left for her now and even hell is better than being all alone and useless. Angelus kisses her brow and Angel hugs her. They know it is hopeless; Angelus made the nun and the demon one and the same, so they get up to leave. But something inside Angelus is breaking, because she is all he has left and if she goes than he is all alone. So he sits back down and Angel lets him, because Angelus won't let them die just yet, because Angelus doesn't want his childe to die alone. So together the three of them wait for the sun to rise.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
There is only a few more minutes left till sunrise, but no one has moved from the park bench, despite Dru's increasingly desperate pleas that they go now. They are playing chicken with the sun, a game they cannot possibly win, yet Angelus has always been too cocky for his own good. Drusilla starts to claw frantically at the front of their shirt. They don't have much time left. They stand up and walk towards a nearby building. Then they freeze because something monumental has just happened. Angelus has admitted to needing Angel.  
  
"Save her," he has said. "Please."  
  
Angel sprints back to her and grabs her roughly by the shoulders, scared it is too late, scared it is not possible. "Drusilla!" he shouts as he shakes her. Her eyes have widened, frightened that soon both of them will be turned back to the dust from which they came. But in them Angelus can see her fighting, fighting for sanity at the last final moments. "You really are a good girl you know. That was just Death lying." Angelus doesn't know where the words come from, but he sees the cloudy look in her eyes fad into clarity, so he knows they must have helped. Then Angelus sits back, it is Angel's show now.  
  
"Drusilla," he is speaking slowly, scared that she won't understand, "Drusilla, are you sorry you made all those people scream and cry? Are you sorry you killed them?" He closes his eyes and prays to any God out there, to please, please let her understand and be sorry. And please let it be enough if she is.  
  
"Of course." Angel opens his eyes and sees her looking back knowing exactly what she is saying. "That is why I must watch the sunrise. But you need to go now." And with that she pushes them back down the path towards shelter.  
  
He runs, hardly daring to hope he will make it in time. He reaches the shelter of the doorway just as the sun peaks over the trees. He turns and watches the last of his bloodline as she calmly sits on the park bench, hands folded in her lap, ankles crosses, hair immaculate, looking perfectly like the Dark Goddess that Spike always said she was. And as the light falls upon her, they watch her skin start to smoke and burn. They see her lips move and then the sun blares in full force and she turns into ashes. Ashes to Ashes. Dust to Dust. Angel says a little prayer, for the girl he damned and Angelus lets out a howl for the vampiress he created. Then they turn and run to the sewers remembering Drusilla as she was before, as she was just now. And they let her final word scream inside their head.  
  
"William."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It is night again and they are both very tired. They haven't slept in a long time. They had both tried in the sewers but like Angelus had pointed out, it is much too hard to sleep when it smells. They walk into the old Wolfman & Hart building, the New Angel Investigations building. They barely make through the doors when they are accosted by Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Lorne.  
  
"Where have you been?" demands Gunn, angered by Angel's apparent hatred for leaving messages. Big Mistake.  
  
Now normally Angelus would have growled at the insolent human and Angel would have kept him in check and simply said "Out." But this was not normally. They had just watched the last of their bloodline burst into a thousand different dust particles and they were both stretched to the emotional limit.  
  
In an instant Gunn found himself up against a wall, dangling a foot above the floor, Angel's hand choking the life out of him. "Angel!" he hears Fred screech, Lorne sigh and he feels Wesley's eyes staring at him in shock.  
  
"Give me a reason." Angelus is growling at Gunn and Angel can't bring himself to care. "I swear I will." Gunn's eyes are popping out of his head and both Angel and Angelus laugh at the look of stupefying fright that he wears on his face.  
  
"Angelus?" That is Wesley's voice and they stop laughing because they can hear him picking up a tranquilizer gun. Angelus knows it is time to retreat, and Angel slowly lets go of Gunn. He turns around just as slowly.  
  
"Put that thing away. It's me."  
  
Everyone is looking at him with skepticism. Angel can't blame them. "Rough day," he pleads, worried that they won't believe him, worried he'll have to sing. What a night.day, he corrected, he was having.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
When he finally gets to his office, Angel is exhausted. It is almost noon and he hasn't fed and he hasn't slept and he just finished singing "My Heart Will Go On" and he was so tired his thoughts were just rambling on and on and on.  
  
Some friends you have there, Angelus said sullenly, threatening to kill us like that. Threatening to kill you, Angel corrected. They can't possibly understand the difference, Angelus says, and Angel can hear it echoing inside his ears.  
  
"No they can't, but it doesn't really matter."  
  
And then Angelus is gone, because Angelus always let's Angel have the last word. The quiet surrounds Angel and he lets it engulf him because he is oh- so-tired. As he closes his eyes he reflects the past twenty-four hours and cries, because he has lost every single member of his family and now he can't possibly get another. And as the flow of tears stems Angelus comes back because Angel needs him. Maybe we should have stopped Kate from killing Penn, he says. And together they laugh.  
  
Yes, sometimes Angel likes to talk to Angelus.  
  
The End 


End file.
